


Fractured

by Bubblegumbisexual



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Multi, Rape, Samcest, Soulless Sam Winchester, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-11 00:55:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15303882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bubblegumbisexual/pseuds/Bubblegumbisexual
Summary: Based on this ask https://holdmesamthatwasbeautiful.tumblr.com/post/175918592631/my-fantasy-2-sams-fucking-poor-confused-dean-twSam is fractured and two of the pieces can't help but indulge themselves in what they want most: DeanDean swears he's going to put his brother back together.If you aren't interested in reading explicit rape, the first chapter isn't actually necessary to understand the rest of the fic. There's not more graphic rape after that, just mentions of rape during conversations.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is definitely rape!! (So don't read if that freaks you out!) And as it said in the summary it's inspired by an ask that holdmesamthatwasbeautiful received on Tumblr. The idea is not mine.

“Sam, please man, you don’t wanna do this,” Dean says, gasping for the air Sammy had knocked out of his lungs.

“I’m the soulless one, Dean, so I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Sam says, smiling empty and cruel. 

“Please,” Dean begs again, twisting his neck to see the other Sam, the one behind him, anchoring him in place. “Sammy, please.”

“Hmm,” the first Sam, Soulless Sam, says, “Don’t think he’s gonna help you either. See that’s Sam before Hell, before college, when he was so in love with you he couldn’t see straight. That’s why he ran away, don’t you know? To get as far away from the one thing he couldn’t have, from you, as possible.”

“Where is my Sam?” Dean cries out, “What did you do to my Sammy?”

“Dean, we’re all your Sam. We’re just the fractured pieces of him,” Soulless Sam grins evilly. “One thing we all have in common, though, is that we all want you.” 

“No. No, my Sam would never do this.”

“You’re right,” the Sam behind Dean says, “there’s one Sam that’s got a conscience. He still wants you, don’t worry about that, but he’s too scared of it, cares too much. We locked him up nice and tight though.” He leans down and breathes hot into Dean’s ear. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted this, big brother, how long I’ve dreamed of this? How long I’ve waited? Well,” he cackles, “only my whole damn life.” He licks a stripe up Dean’s neck. Soulless Sam is watching with morbid satisfaction, a smirk playing on his lips, and then he’s unbuttoning Dean’s flannel and tugging the t-shirt over Dean’s head. Dean bucks, trying to break younger Sam’s grip on his arms, but Sam is bigger than him, nothing but solid muscle. 

“Come on now, Dean, won’t you be good for us? I’d promise that we don’t bite, but that would be a lie.” They shove Dean to his knees and Soulless Sam unbuckles his belt. 

“Go back to Hell,” Dean grinds out before Soulless Sam is forcing his mouth open and Dean chokes on his little brother’s cock. 

“Now, now, no need to get nasty,” Soulless Sam says, thrusting harder and making Dean’s eyes water. The other Sam is pulling Dean’s hair, guiding him up and down Soulless Sam’s cock with utter fascination. They look exactly the same, exactly like Sam, and Dean wants to cry, has to find a way to reassemble his brother. How is he ever going to be able to look at him again after this?

They hull Dean up and toss him onto the bed, quickly caging him in between them.

“What’s this?” one of them asks, and Dean can’t tell which is which anymore. The one that spoke is tugging off Dean’s jeans and boxers, stroking Dean’s cock until he’s half hard. 

“Looks like he’s starting to get the idea,” the other Sam says and takes Dean in his mouth.

“No!” Dean yells, trying to pull away, but there’s slick fingers pressing into him, spreading him open, and his mouth goes dry.

“Like that, huh? Always knew you would,” the Sam that was blowing him says, leaning back to watch the other Sam’s fingers as they move in and out of Dean. Dean’s not sure what to do anymore. He needs to fight, but he’s fully hard now, pinned like a bug by the Sams, both so much bigger than him. More than that, they know him, know everything that makes him tick. 

The other Sam pulls his fingers out and slides between Dean’s legs.

“No,” Dean whispers, “no, god, no, please. Please Sammy, please don’t do this. Let me fix you, let me put you back together.”

“I’m a little tired of you trying to save me, Dean,” Sam says and slides slowly into his brother. “Aw, look at that beautiful blush,” one of them says, laughing at Dean’s grunts.

“You bastards!” Dean yells, but he can’t get away, slowly feels his body betraying him as they work him over. His stomach muscles are clenched tight and he refuses to give them what they want, but then Sam’s mouth wraps back around his cock, that perfect mouth, so pink and pretty and soft, and Dean has to choke back his bile at the thought as his self-hatred bubbles up. But, god, Sam’s bigger than he would have imagined, if he ever let himself imagine, and he knows just what Dean likes, knows how to work him up, make him gasp for breath. Maybe he should just give in. They’ll stop then, right? Then he can fix Sammy, put him back together. That’s his job; he has to do that. So, just...give in? Let them torture him so he can save Sam like he’s supposed to.

Whether that’s what he wants or not, he doesn’t have a choice anymore, not with the way Sam is pounding into him, and the way other Sam is sucking him down. His whole body feels clenched up and tight and then he’s coming, Sam swallowing his come down while the other one fucks him right through his orgasm. 

“Oh, god, Okay!” Dean cries out, “Please, stop, you got what you wanted, please, enough.” There’s tears in his eyes and his chest is tight with guilt when the Sam’s both smile down at him.

“We’ve only just started, De.”


	2. Trials Sam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finds Sam's conscience and together they begin to piece Sam back together.

It’s been three days since Dean was jumped by the hellspawn versions of his little brother. They’ve drug him back to the bunker, one of them always around to keep an eye on him. The nights are the worst. Sometimes there’s more than just two of them. There’s Pre-Hell Sam, and Soulless Sam, but there’s also Hell Sam and Addict Sam and Trials Sam, who mostly grits his teeth and pounds Dean like he’s trying to prove something. Dean’s even caught glimpses of a crying Sam. He can hear him, through the walls sometimes, and it breaks something in Dean. He needs to find that Sam. He figures that maybe that Sam can save them both. 

Trials Sam is watching Dean now. He keeps dozing off though, exhausted and frustrated just the way Sam had actually been during the Trials. The other Sams don’t seem to be in the bunker, though Dean’s not sure where they’ve gone. Surely, they can’t be going places together, right? Someone would notice four identical sasquatches roaming around. 

“We’re married, you know,” Trials Sam says to him.

“What?”

“In that church, with Crowley. We said vows, Dean.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You promised to put me before anything else, and then I essentially said the same thing. You bound my hand. We had a witness. Chuck totally thinks we’re married.” Sam laughs. “Wish I had any real memories of Chuck. But the other Sam told me enough. Seems kinda like a weird dude, honestly.”

“Yeah, I think you’re wrong. I don’t think Chuck is just gonna be on board with the whole ‘married bros’ thing. Think incest is kinda a sin, Sam.”

“Some of the other Sam’s think so. But from what Pre-Hell Sam says, we’re soulmates, Heaven certified, so. I don’t know.” Dean swallows. He’d been shoving that memory away since it had happened. It didn’t stop it from keeping him up at night, though.

“So, what’s with weepy Sam?” he asked, trying to change the subject. 

“All that guilt, compartmentalized and built up over a couple decades, that does things to a person. Well, a piece of a person, I guess. Between us, I’m not a huge fan of the whole fractured thing, it’s...frustrating not having all my memories at my disposal. But that Sam, I don’t know, staying fractured might be worth it just to stay away from that Sam. I’m in pretty rough shape already, I don’t know how I could handle all that.”

“What do you mean, ‘rough shape’? You’ve been taking turns just like all the other Sams.”

“Yeah, there’s just something about that Sam being gone, just don’t feel bad about it anymore. I mean, feel bad about hurting you, yeah. I’m not the soulless one, he gives me the creeps. But wanting you, I just don’t feel bad.” Sam shakes his head. “It’s weird though. That Sam, he’s just a kid. I mean, we all look the same, right? I can barely tell us apart when we’re not talking.” Dean nods. They all look identical, like adult Sam. “But that Sam, he’s like thirteen, man. It’s weird. All he does is cry. He’s worse than Hell Sam. Which, you know, is saying something.”

It’s true, Hell Sam is terrifying. He never talks, just stares at Dean like he wants to eat him. Dean doesn’t think he realizes he’s doing it either. He flinches a lot, and the only time he settles at all is when he’s touching Dean. Granted, Dean is usually being held down at the time, but there’s something about the way that line between Sam’s eyebrows vanishes as soon as he touches Dean, the way his little brother just sinks down against him. Dean almost wishes Hell Sam would talk so he could actually find out what Hell was like for Sam, maybe compare notes. 

“You said he’s thirteen?” Dean asks, confused. “Why would he be different?”

“I dunno. All that childhood angst I guess.” 

“Yeah, well, you always were angsty,” Dean says without humor. “At least it felt like you wanted to be around me then though. Before,” Dean swallows, “Before you had plans to leave.”

“I don’t remember Sanford,” Sam says, “But the other Sam, he does. And he says he loved Jess, but, I don’t know man.”

“What?” Dean’s voice is suddenly raw. 

“He just, he doesn’t talk about it too much, ya know, but. He knew, before he left with you. He had dreams about the fire. And yeah, he didn’t think it was going to happen, thought it was just a weird dream, sure, but he said that he didn’t really care if it did. I mean, don’t get me wrong, he totally feels awful about Jess. He didn’t want her to die. He just said he always felt guilty that he didn’t care enough. That he was just happy you came back. He thought, he thought you hated him, you know?” Sam’s voice is soft by the end of it, almost like he can relate. Well, he probably can, Dean figures. 

“I couldn’t,” Dean clears his throat. “I couldn’t hate you. Any piece of you, Sam. Don’t get me wrong, soulless you is an asshat, but. I still saved his life, didn’t I? I can’t, I can’t live without you, man.”

“I know,” Sam says, a small smile on his lips. “I can remember the church. It’s the last thing I remember. Kinda hard to bury it behind the other memories when I don’t have very many.”

“Can I, Can I see the other Sam?” Dean asks, hoping this Sam is soft enough to let him. Sam’s jaw is set, though, and Dean figures his luck isn’t that good.

“Yeah.” Sam’s face melts, and Dean thinks he’s misheard for a second. “I mean, why not? If anyone’s gonna scare you outta putting us back together…” he trails off. 

Sam leads Dean down one of the bunker’s many hallways to a far-reaching hall of bedrooms. He stops in front of the last door. 

“He a, he’s restrained. Mostly for his own safety. We weren’t sure if he’d, you know.”

“Right,” Dean says softly and pushes the door open. 

Sam is so tiny, sitting cross-legged on the floor. Tinier even than Dean remembers. 

“Heya kiddo,” Dean says, walking towards Sam. Sam looks up from the floor. His face is wet and he looks all of maybe twelve, floppy brown hair hangs in his eyes. 

“Dean?” His voice is high pitched and it shakes. 

“Yeah,” Dean says, sitting in front of Sam, “you okay?” A new round of tears begins to run down Sam’s face.

“Me?” he asks, “Are you okay? What did they do to you?” He’s sobbing now, and Dean leans forward, releases the binds around Sam’s tiny wrists, and Sam immediately launches himself into Dean’s lap. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, hey,” Dean says, rubbing his hand down Sam’s back, “it’s okay, Sammy, I’m okay.”

“Where are they?” Sam asks panicked, “they’re gonna come back, they’re gonna take you away.”

“Shh, it’s okay. We’re gonna figure it out, I promise. Gonna get you put back together.” Dean lets himself just hold Sam for a minute. He’s missed the kid, this open, vulnerable Sam that’s hidden from him for years now. He pulls back finally and wipes the tears on Sam’s cheeks away with his thumbs. “None of this is your fault, okay Sammy? I’m gonna fix it, but I need your help, nerd.” Sam smiles bright and dimpled and Dean had forgotten how beautiful his little brother was. He helps Sam up, but Trials Sam is still standing in the doorway.

“I don’t know about this, Dean,” Trials Sam says, blocking the door. “And when the other Sams get back…”

“Then we need to hurry up and do this before they get back,” Dean says, pushing past Trials Sam and dragging kid Sam with him to the bunker’s library. “We gotta find something to put you back together, Humpty Dumpty.” Dean and kid Sam start skimming through books. Two hours and six piles of books later, kid Sam pipes up.

“I think I found something.”

“What is it?”

“It says I have to...know myself? Like all of the myselves.”

“Know yourself? What like biblically?” Dean has a brief image of Soulless Sam touching his Sam and he has to fight down the vomit. “No. Absolutely not. Find something else.”

“What? Dean, we don’t have time. I mean, they’re all just me, anyway.”

“Sam, I said no.” Dean’s surprised, though he really shouldn’t be, when Sam just sulks. But thirty minutes later, he pipes up again. 

“I think I have an idea.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, the book doesn’t say ‘biblically.’ It just says ‘know.’ Maybe I just have to talk to them.”

“Uh-huh. So that they can ignore you and lock you up again? I don’t think so. Find something better.”

“I could try it on Trials Sam, before the others get back.” Dean sighs.

“Fine.” They find Trials Sam in the kitchen and the two Sam’s sit down across from each other. 

“It says I need to know myself,” kid Sam explains to the other Sam. He nods.

“Okay. Well, uh, I’m Sam from the Trials. I, uhm, I kinda died almost, after, but I, uh, I married Dean, so there’s that.”

“Wait, I marry Dean?” kid Sam asks, and is it just Dean or does he sound excited?

“Uh, well, technically. There’s not like a wedding or anything, but it does happen in a church. It just kinda gets ignored after though. And then Dean apparently tricks you into letting an angel possess you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. But, hey, you also totally fail at trying to seal the gates of Hell, the one thing Dean trusted you to do.”

“What do you mean?”

“I,” Trials Sam’s eyes flicker over to Dean, who’s leaning against the counter, “I let him down, you know? Again. I promised I could do it without dying, and I wasn’t strong enough. I couldn’t do it and I almost died. I confessed all my sins, all the ways I’d let him down over the years, and then I just, just did it again.” Trials Sam’s eyes are glassy under the kitchen lights and he resolutely doesn’t look at Dean. “I will never be good enough for him.” 

Kid Sam is watching Trials Sam, tears pouring down his face once again. 

“It’s okay,” kid Sam says, “He’s going to forgive you. He’ll always forgive you.” Dean feels something inside him break. 

“One day he won’t,” Trials Sam says. “One day he’ll realize what an irredeemable fuck up I am. He’ll realize I don’t deserve him. That I’m just a freak.” Kid Sam shakes his head.

“No, he won’t. Because it’s Dean. And he knows you better than anyone. And he hasn’t left. Dean doesn’t leave. You run because you’re scared, but he doesn’t. It doesn’t matter how scared he is, or how angry, or how disappointed, he doesn’t run from you. He doesn’t care that you’re a fuck up or a freak. He knows that. He still wants you beside him.” Kid Sam’s eyes start to dry, and Trials Sam’s face clears a bit, a small smile shining through.

“Really?” Kid Sam nods, and Trials Sam starts to dissolve right before Dean’s eyes, and then he’s gone, nothing left but kid Sam sitting in a kitchen chair. 

“Sammy? You okay?” Dean asks, not entirely sure what he’s just witnessed. 

“I can, I can feel him.” Sam shakes his head. “I can feel him. It worked.”

“Okay, now we just gotta get the others.” Easier said than done.


	3. Addict Sam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Dean manages to get Addict Sam restrained, kid Sam talks to him.

Lucky for Dean, the Sams wander in separately, each on their own schedules. Within a half hour, Addict Sam makes an appearance. 

Dean manages to tackle his brother, who has a flask in his hand, smudged with blood. It’s an unfair fight--Sam is strong as hell when he’s hopped up on demon blood--but kid Sam manages to knock the other him over the head with a huge book and Addict Sam crumbles. They have just enough time to tie him up before he wakes up.

“Morning, sunshine,” Dean greets his bitch-faced little brother. He holds up the flask. “Always knew this stuff was bad for ya, Sammy. Lost a fight to a teeny-bopper, how’s that feel?” Addict Sam rolls his eyes.

“You’re the one addicted to demon blood?” kid Sam asks. “Why?” Addict Sam barks out a laugh. 

“Why? Because I can exorcise demons with my mind! I can save people! I’m a hero.” Kid Sam shakes his head.

“But now you’re one of them,” kid Sam says. “Your eyes are even black.” Addict Sam’s eyebrows furrow and then the black slips away, revealing hazel. 

“Sometimes it just...happens,” Addict Sam tries to explain. “I can’t always control it.”

“You don’t need demon blood to save people,” kid Sam says. “You do it because you like it.”

“No. No, I help people. I kill demons. I’m not the bad guy!”

“Who are you trying to convince? You love how powerful it makes you feel.” Addict Sam shakes his head.

“No, I have to. I have to save him.” Kid Sam frowns.

“How is this supposed to save him? All you’re doing is hurting him.”

“If I’m strong enough, I can, I can keep him safe. They won’t be able to get him. Not the angels, not Lucifer. Not Lilith. I, I can save him. Just this once, I can save him.” Addict Sam’s voice breaks and kid Sam’s crying again, tears dripping from his chin. 

“You did save him,” kid Sam whispers.

“No, no I couldn’t. I couldn’t save him. The hellhounds took him. They tore him apart right in front of me and I couldn’t bring him back. No one would make a deal, I couldn’t, I had to. I had to be strong enough to kill Lilith and bring him back.”

“He came back.”

“Yeah,” Addict Sam huffs a laugh, “yeah, so Heaven could use him as a pawn. If I was stronger, I could stop them. He wouldn’t have to, I could save him.” Kid Sam shakes his head.

“Sam, you did. You saved him. You threw Lucifer into the cage and saved Dean’s life.”

“And I needed the demon blood to do it. I’m not strong enough without it.”

“Lucifer is gone. He’s never going to be in you ever again. You don’t need it.”

“Yes, I do! I need to be strong enough for him, I need to save him for once!”

“Sam,” Dean whispers, stepping forward to Addict Sam’s chair. “You save me every day. From ghosts and demons and leviathans and angels and witches and fucking God’s sister and myself. Especially myself. But you can’t do that if you’re one of them. I need you here, with me, not strung out distracted by your next hit. You can only save me if you’re with me.”

“I,” Addict Sam looks back at kid Sam and then at Dean again. “I am with you,” he whispers as he dissolves into the air. Kid Sam breathes in and sighs as a flutter sets in his chest.

“You good, kid?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright. Two down, three to go.”


	4. Pre-Hell Sam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pre-Hell Sam comes home next. Dean realizes some wounds never really close.

Pre-Hell Sam really should be called Stanford Sam, Dean realizes when sees those perfect dimples and the dark glint in Sam’s eyes. 

“I see you found Samantha,” Stanford Sam says. 

“Yup,” Dean agrees. “Why don’t you introduce yourself?” Sam huffs a laugh.

“Well,” he says, rolling his eyes and smirking, “I’m normal Sam. I’m gonna be a lawyer and marry pretty pretty Jess and have two point five kids and live in a too big house in the suburbs that looks just like every house around it. That is,” he says, turning his eyes to Dean, “until big bro here shows up and drags me off to find our deadbeat of a dad and I come home to my girlfriend burning on the ceiling.” Stanford Sam’s face is full of hate, his lips practically a snarl. “You drove me away, and then you tore down the life I built without you!” Sam yells and bile rises in Dean’s throat. 

“No,” Dean says, “No, Sam, you left. You wanted to leave so bad.”

“You didn’t even try to stop me!”

“You wanted out. Nothing I said was going to change your mind.” Sam chuckles darkly and hangs his head.

“You’re wrong. So wrong, Dean.” He looks back up at Dean’s horrified face. “I ran because of you. I wanted you, and you never wanted me. And I couldn’t stay because I, I didn’t know what I would, would do to you if I stayed.” His voice breaks, and he clears his throat. “I guess we know now, huh?” Before Dean can respond, Sam continues. “But I never once, not for a second, thought you’d let me go. I kept waiting, knowing you’d show up and drag me back home. But you never came. You abandoned me, Dean.”

“That’s pretty ironic coming from the guy who left,” Dean replies coldly. “No forwarding address, chucked your phone, didn’t leave me a single clue to find you. I did find you though, even after you took off and left me alone with Dad, even after you abandoned me for a fake normal life with a pretty vapid girl and college frat parties while I was drowning myself in a bottle of whiskey and almost getting myself killed on new hunts every week. I still came back for you.”

“Sure took your sweet time though.”

“You didn’t want me, Sam. You made that clear. You didn’t want your fuck up, GED, high school dropout, grunt, bastard big brother showing up and fucking up your perfect bubble of normality. So I stayed away, stayed with Dad because I was supposed. And then he ditched me, too. I didn’t want to show up and fuck your life up all over again, but I didn’t know what to do.”

“I was so relieved,” Sam says quietly, “when you finally showed up. Pissed it took you so long, but damn, you looked good, Dean. Always such a twink.” Sam licks over his bottom lip. Bile rises in the back of Dean’s throat again but he pushes it down and narrows his eyes at Sam. “The things I wanted to do to you. I would have done anything if I’d thought you’d let me.” Sam takes a deep breath and smiles. “That’s why she came after me, the lady in white. I didn’t cheat on Jess, but I was planning to. Trying to figure out excuses to get away from her. I thought for sure you wouldn’t let me leave twice. I was almost happy when I saw her on the ceiling, before the horror set in.” He shakes his head. “I needed you, needed you to come drag me back. I wanted to know that you needed me like I needed you, Dean.”

“That’s sick. You’re sick, Sam.” Sam’s face twists up.

“I know.”

“You should have just stayed.”

“No, I would have hurt you. I can’t control myself, Dean. I want you so much it makes me hate you.”

“You should have stayed,” Dean repeats, striding over to where Sam is tied up. Sam looks up into his brother’s eyes, searching.

“You can’t imagine the horrible things I want to do to you,” Sam whispers, trembling.

“Yes, I can.” Sam shakes his head. “But you didn’t do them, Sammy.”

“But now I have,” Sam says, his eyes pleading. Dean swallows, tries not to vomit. 

“I think you have to tell me,” kid Sam whispers. Stanford Sam looks away from Dean and at himself. He swallows, doesn’t look back at Dean.

“I wanted him to want me,” Stanford Sam says. “But he didn’t. He wanted easy, stupid girls with big tits. I wanted him to look at me as something other than his snot-nosed brat of a little brother. I wanted him to be with me because he wanted to, not because Dad dumped me on him.” Sam shakes his head. “But he didn’t. When I realized that he never would, I wanted to make him, to force him. He was supposed to be mine, we’re soulmates!” 

“He doesn’t belong to you,” kid Sam says. 

“I know. But I wanted him to. I wanted to do anything that would make him mine.”

“Dean cares more about you than about anything else in the whole world. Why isn’t that enough for you? He’s died for you, killed for you, he’s willing to let the world end if it means saving you. When is it ever going to be enough, Sam? If you ask any more of him, he won’t be Dean anymore.” 

“I know,” Stanford Sam says, watching as kid Sam’s eyes began to overflow. “I know,” he takes a deep breath, lets it out. “I know.” He begins to dissolve just like the others, and kid Sam grimaces. 

“You okay, kid?”

“Yeah, just,” he takes a breath. “Just a lot of dark.”


	5. Hell Sam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hell Sam doesn't have anything hide. He's just raw pain.

Hell Sam comes home next. He doesn’t even fight when Dean tackles him to the floor, just sits as he’s tied down.

“All I wanted,” Hell Sam says, “was to know that you were alive, that I really saved you and it wasn’t just another mind game Lucifer was playing with me. I just wanted to feel you breathing.” Hell Sam’s eyes are dead, but kid Sam’s already crying. “I just needed you to be okay.”

Kid Sam gets up from his chair and climbs into Hell Sam’s lap, pulls his chin up to meet his eyes. 

“You saved him,” kid Sam whispers, “you saved everyone, but you especially saved Dean. He’s here because of you.” Kid Sam lets out a rough sob, his tiny frame shaking with it. “He’s alive,” kid Sam smiles through his tears, “he’s alive and he’s here and you’re here and it’s okay now. Lucifer’s gone. Dean killed him for you. He took care of you. You have to let him take care of you.” Hell Sam looks at Dean and then back at kid Sam. A tear rolls down his cheek and nods. 

Kid Sam shutters as Hell Sam dissolves.


	6. Soulless Sam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turns out Soulless Sam might not be as cold as he thought.

Kid Sam doesn’t like Soulless Sam. He knows Soulless Sam has done bad things, can see it in the way Dean can’t even look at him, in how he stands the whole way across the room to stand as far from them as possible. How is Sam supposed to make a creature without a soul feel remorse for the terrible things he’s done?

“What’s your big confession?” kid Sam asks. Soulless Sam barks a laugh.

“Confession? What is this, mass? You gonna give me twenty Hail Marys?” Kid Sam shakes his head.

“You wanted to kill Samuel. You tried to kill Bobby. You could have killed Dean.”

“No,” Sam says with a sneer, “even soulless, I can’t kill him. Can’t even let someone else kill him. I don’t know what’s more pathetic: that I can’t manage it or that he trusted me not to try.”

“What do you mean, you can’t kill him? You feel no guilt, right?” Soulless Sam grinds his teeth.

“Nope, I don’t. But I just can’t. Can’t live in a world without him. It feels wrong, or not wrong just, pointless. Like if I killed him, I might as well just die too.”

“What?” comes Dean’s question from the other side of the room. From the look on his face, it seems he’s just as surprised by it as the Sams are. He clears his throat. “Why would it matter to you if I’m dead or not?”

“I dunno. It just does. I wish it didn’t, your morals are so exhausting. ‘No killing people, Sam. No fucking hot girls when your brother gets abducted. No incest. No shooting Samuel. God, you just take the fun out of everything.”

“Uh,” Dean’s not sure what to say to that. Soulless Sam sounds like a petulant kid. “Well, Sam, you’re not supposed to do those things because normal, put together you doesn’t want you to do those things,” Dean tries.

“That guy?” Soulless Sam rolls his eyes. “He’s barely holding himself together. Well, was anyway. Now he’s, well, a bit fractured.” 

“Not for long,” Dean says, “you’re the final piece, Sasquatch, so hurry up and spill the beans. What’s eating at you?”

“What’s eating at me?” Soulless Sam grits out. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that you tried to kill me by shoving a hundred years of Hell torture down my throat with the promise of a brick wall that turned out to be more of a curtain!” Soulless Sam fumes. “Maybe it’s that you were so focused on getting your precious, innocent little brother back that you didn’t stop to think for a second that maybe I am him! Maybe I needed you to protect me! And you didn’t. Just tied me down and let Death stuff his hands in me. So I think, maybe, I have the right to be a little pissed off.” Soulless Sam huffs. 

“Well, I would apologize,” Dean says, anger in his voice, “but I’m not sorry. Especially seeing as you’ve been holding me down every night convincing the others to take turns fucking me like I’m a damn blow up doll! So why don’t you cut the bullshit, Sam? The only person I ever needed to protect you from was yourself, you fucking sociopath. Can you just finish him?” Dean yells at kid Sam as he stomps out of the room. He makes it to his bedroom door before it hits him that he shouldn’t leave the kid alone with that freak. The mere idea of it makes his skin crawl. 

When he makes it back to the kitchen he hears kid Sam say, “it’s okay that you have feelings for him. It’s okay to feel things.” Soulless Sam shakes his head.

“No, I don’t feel anything so why should I feel something for him?”

“You still have your memories. It makes sense that you would feel an attachment to him.” 

“It’s not just an attachment. I had an attachment to Bobby. I was still going to kill him. Dean is more like, like tossing myself into a black hole until I feel as empty as it is. 

“No,” kid Sam says, “you are the black hole, Sam. You are nothing but dark neverending emptiness. And Dean is the only thing that ever casts any light on you. So man up and accept that you’re only gonna get what he’s willing to give and that you’re lucky even for that.”

“You should be careful,” Soulless Sam says, “if I kill you, I’ll be the only Sam left.” He smiles.

“You’re not going to kill me,” kid Sam says, “because you don’t really want to be this cold, empty vessel with no soul. You want me. You want to feel something that takes all that cold away, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Soulless Sam admits, and Dean watches as he disappears.


	7. Kid Sam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's only one Sam left.

Kid Sam falls to the kitchen floor, clutching his head. 

“Sammy!” Dean rushes over to him. 

“I’m okay, Dean,” kid Sam says, getting up from the floor. 

“Why are you still…” Dean gestures.

“A kid? I dunno.” 

“Alright,” Dean says, “we’ll figure it out tomorrow. Let’s just, have a movie night, okay?” Sam’s face lights up.

“Really?” 

“Yeah, we’ll hit the books tomorrow.” Dean makes popcorn and they both crawl into his bed as Diehard starts. Dean hadn’t realized how much he missed this. Sam is curled up under his arm, slipping the unpopped corn kernels into his mouth. He keeps glancing up at Dean when he thinks Dean isn’t looking and smiling. 

When the movie ends, Dean puts the empty bowl on the nightstand and lets Sam press close against him, his skinny arm stretched across Dean’s stomach. He hums against Dean’s chest.

“I think I know how to fix me,” Sam says after they’ve been laying in the dark for a while. 

“Yeah?” Dean breathes into Sam’s hair.

“Yeah. I, I have to tell you my last secret.” 

“Okay,” Dean says, “what is it?” He wonders how bad a secret from thirteen-year-old Sam can be. It’s probably something like he feels guilty for stealing Dean’s skin mags or something. Sam schooches up, turns to look at Dean and there’s tears in Sam’s eyes again. 

“Do you know why I’m this age?” Sam asks and his lip trembles. “This is how old I was when I realized there was something wrong with me, something wrong with how I felt about you.” He gasps a quick breath, his tiny shoulders shaking. “I was telling the boys at that school in Michigan about you, ya know, ‘cause you’re my hero, Dean. And one of ‘em, one of ‘em said it sounded like I had a crush on you. And I didn’t, I didn’t know what that meant, Dean, not really, but when they told me, I thought maybe, yeah, ‘cause I did want to be around you all the time and you made me so happy and, and anyway, they knew you were my brother, ‘cause I’d told them, and they started making fun of me, saying I was a freak for having a crush on my brother, and I, I didn’t know what to do, so I, I didn’t tell you, and then we moved at the end of the week so it didn’t matter. But it did matter, Dean, because then I knew. I knew I didn’t just come from a weird family. I knew that I was a whole different kind of freak from you and Dad. You guys are heroes. I was just. I was just a freak kid in love with my brother.”

Dean’s chest feels like some someone has reached in and wrapped their hand tight around his still beating heart. Dean reaches up, looks at how scared his little brother is, and wipes his tears away even as they continue to fall.

“Hey,” Dean whispers, “it’s okay, kiddo.”

“No,” Sam sobs, “no, Dean, it’s not! I’m a freak.” 

“Sammy, look at me.” Sam sniffs and looks at his big brother. “I don’t care if you’re a freak, Sammy. Hey, look at me. I don’t. You could be the biggest freak on the planet, I don’t care as long as you’re my freak, okay? That kid was wrong, Sam. He should’ve never made fun of you; you should have let me pound that snub-nosed jerk into the ground, you understand?” Sam nods, hiccuping. “Jesus, Sammy, come here.” Dean pulls Sam down back against his chest and presses a kiss to Sam’s temple. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Sam nods.

“Okay, let’s go get you a glass of water.” 

They make their way into the kitchen. Dean’s holding a glass under the faucet when it happens. A bright light engulfs Sam and Dean’s stomach crashes to the floor. Oh god, he thinks, they’re gonna fracture again. He doesn’t think he’s going to be able to handle it this time. 

Then the light starts to fade away.


	8. Dealing with the Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when Sam's better and Dean has to actually deal with what's happened to him?

“Sam? Are you okay?” Sam’s back to full-size and squinting, hand held up to shield his face. 

“Ye--” Sam’s eyes glaze over and he falls to his knees. 

“Sam? Sam!” 

“Oh god,” Sam says, his eyes wet when he finally focuses back on Dean. “Oh god, Dean, I’m so sor--”

Dean’s fist lands hard on Sam’s jaw. Sam tries again.

“Dean, I--” 

Another hard punch, Dean’s knuckles beating against Sam cheekbone. Dean doesn’t stop until Sam is covered in blood and knocked out cold. Kid didn’t even fight back. Dean isn’t sure whether to be thankful or guilty. He hauls Sam into a kitchen chair, checks that his eyes still dilate, Sam’s nose isn’t broken thank god, and walks to the freezer for an ice pack. He sets it in a bowl on the table for when Sam comes to. 

When Sam wakes up, Dean is sitting at the counter, facing away from him, the white glow of the laptop screen outlining his silhouette in the dim-lit room. If Sam asked, Dean might tell him that he was watching porn, or doing research to make sure that Sam was going to stay put back together. The truth is he’s searching for a memory erasure spell. He doesn’t want to remember anything that’s happened in the last week and he knows, already six shots in, that liquor can’t touch this level of trauma. Sam doesn’t ask.

“Do you want me to leave?” Sam asks instead because he can’t imagine that Dean wants him to stay now. Now that he knows what Sam’s been hiding for two decades. Dean doesn’t say anything, just takes another swig of whiskey. “Dean.”

“No,” Dean rasps, his throat sore and rough from holding back the tears he refuses to let out. He tries again. “No, Sam, I don’t want you to leave.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” Dean swallows, still turned around. He can’t look at Sam without wanting to puke, “because that wasn’t you. It wasn’t your fault. It was fucking Rowena’s fault and if I didn’t already gank that bitch…” Dean trails off, anger flashing through him too brightly. He takes a breath. “Don’t you dare fucking leave after I just got you put back together,” Dean grits out. He doesn’t add that it’s Sam turn to put him back together, mostly because he has no idea how Sam could.

“Okay,” Sam agrees softly. “What happened?”

“You don’t remember?”

“No, I, I do. I remember what, what I did. But how did I…”

“Well, we were on a hunt. You were in the motel, researching some hoodoo, and I was talking to one of the victim’s wives when I saw Rowena. I went after her. I mean, heavy hoodoo murders and then Rowena shows up? Wasn’t a leap for sure. But by the time I found her, she was already halfway through casting something. ‘Where’s Samuel? He’s certainly not going to like what I’ve planned for him.’” Dean mimics. “‘You’re not going to kill me, are you Dean? No, no, only Samuel gets to do that.’ So I ganked her, obviously. But she, uh, she cast the spell before the bullet hit her between the eyes. I rushed back to check on you, uh you were already, uh.”

“Right,” Sam says, not wanting Dean to go into the gory details. Remembering it was bad enough, he didn’t want to hear it out loud. “Dean, I’m sor--”

“Shut it. Sam, I know you’re sorry, okay? Hearing it makes me wanna vomit.” Dean takes a breath, steadies himself, and finally turns around. “Look, it wasn’t you, Sam. That’s all.” Dean shrugs, prays Sam will just agree even though they both know it isn’t true.

“It was me, Dean.” No such luck then. “All the things I never wanted you to know. God, I.”

“I know,” is all Dean says. Sam eventually drags himself to bed, leaves Dean in the kitchen. 

_____________________

When Sam comes back to the kitchen the next morning, Dean is still at the counter. There’s a coffee cup where the glass tumbler was last night and Dean has sunk in eyes and five o’clock shadow, but otherwise, the scene is the same. 

“Did you sleep at all?” Sam asks and Dean flinches. 

“No,” he says finally, taking a gulp of black coffee, “couldn’t.” Sam’s stomach rolls and not because he’s hungry. He did this to Dean. 

“What have you been looking at, anyway?” He asks, walking closer and leaning over his brother’s shoulder. Dean leans away from him, won’t look at him. “Memory erasure spells?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?” Dean turns to glare at him. “No,” Sam says, “no. Dean last time you had a memory erasure spell put on you--”

“I almost died. I know.” He sighs. He’d figured Sam would be so bitchy about the only feasible way they had of making this work. 

“And now that Rowena’s gone, there won’t be anyone that can reverse the spell. No.” Sam walks away, pours himself a cup of coffee. He doesn’t want to remember the things he did either, but Dean knows better. Dean doesn’t argue; he’s too tired, takes another sip of coffee instead. “Maybe you should talk to someone,” Sam suggests.

“Yeah, who? A shrink? So they can lock me up like Martin? No thanks, I’m good. I’ll deal with it the good ol’ fashion way: alcohol.”

“That’s not dealing with it, Dean.”

“Worked pretty well for Dad and Bobby.”

“No, it didn’t.”

“No, it didn’t,” Dean agrees softly. John was a mean drunk and Bobby was just sad.

“Maybe not a shrink. But you could join a group for, for trauma survivors.” Sam avoids the word rape. He doesn’t want to think it, let alone say it to his brother. 

“And tell them what, Sam? That a witch shattered my brother into five pieces who gangbanged me and make cum over and over,” Dean’s voice breaks. He clears his throat. “Then in order to put him back together, I had to listen to him detail every single fuck up he’s ever made and forgive him for them.” Sam winces. “Just to top it off, I had to watch what all those terrible, guilt-ridden memories looked like on the face of my thirteen-year-old little brother as he told me that was when he realized for the first time that he was a freak for how he felt about me.” Dean’s lip trembles as he pictures little Sammy’s face covered in tears, thinking his big brother was going to hate him. Dean closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I don’t need therapy. I just need time, okay?” Dean looks up at Sam through wet lashes. Sam’s standing a couple feet away, trying hard not to reach out and touch his brother. Dean’s thankful. 

“Okay,” Sam says quietly and leaves the room.


	9. Because Sometimes Progress is Admitting You aren't Okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're dealing, in their own ways.

It had been two months since it had happened when Dean crawls into Sam’s bed in the middle of the night. 

Things had mostly gone back to normal after the first week. He could sometimes hear Dean sobbing at night after he thought Sam had fallen asleep and he still drank too much, but things were about as normal as they could be expected to be. Sam had been working hard not to touch Dean or get too close. He made himself be louder when he walked into rooms and softer when he spoke. He also left a lot on errand runs, trying to give Dean space to breathe. 

So to say he’s surprised to wake up to a very drunk Dean crawling into his bed is an understatement. 

“Dean? What’re you doing?”

“Shhhh, Sammy’s sleeping,” Dean hisses, shoving his jeans off and curling into Sam’s chest.

“No, I’m not, Dean. This isn’t your room, come on, you’re drunk.”

“No,” Dean shakes his head, “don’t want my room. Want your room.” Sam knows he should push Dean away, but it’s been weeks since Dean has so much as clapped him on the shoulder and he’s touch starved. 

“Why?” Sam asks. 

“Want you, Sammy,” Dean breathes against Sam’s neck. “Miss you.” Sam swallows hard when Dean’s hands fumble and push at the waistband of his pajama pants. 

“No, Dean, stop,” he says, pulling Dean’s hand away. “Come on, let’s get you to bed,” Sam says, pushing Dean away and getting up. 

“Sammy, no, please don’t leave,” Dean begs, trying to pull Sam back down. “Please.” Dean’s eyes shine in the green light of Sam’s alarm clock. Sam can’t look away. He’s caught by those eyes and the single tear that spills over Dean’s left cheekbone. 

“Okay,” he whispers. “Okay. Come here.” Sam sinks back onto the bed, gathers Dean up into his arms. “Let’s just go to sleep, okay?” Dean blinks as Sam lays them down, then nods. His head is spinning, but he feels better with Sam where he can touch him, can make sure he won’t run off while Dean’s asleep, tired of waiting for Dean to get it together. “I’m not going anywhere,” Sam promises. “Not if you never get it together, not if you never forgive me. God knows I don’t deserve it anyway. Dean, I’m not leaving until you tell me to.” 

Dean doesn’t quite believe Sam, but it does make him feel better to know that Sam at least thinks it’s the truth. Maybe they will be okay. These things just take time. Time Dean hopes he’ll have.


End file.
